Thursday, October 21, 2010

The elder son of former Egyptian President Gamal Abdel-Nasser (ruled 1954-1970), Khaled, has an interesting story to tell. One day in the 1960s, the then teenage Khaled joined his father on a private car ride. Unintentionally, a crowd of people noticed Nasser's presence in the car, and they waved to the revolutionary leader whose speeches and decisions had electrified them for years. And Nasser as usual waved back. But when Nasser noticed that Khaled, overwhelmed by the emotional zeal, was waving too to the crowds from his car window, he looked at him and said: have you gone nuts, boy?

This month marks the 40th anniversary of Nasser's death. If Nasser is not remembered in Egypt and the Arab world for his achievements – driving the British out after 70 years of occupation, nationalizing the Suez Canal Company, and building the High Dam in Aswan – he is today certainly remembered for his integrity, and his moral revulsion of all sorts of nepotism.

The rise, in some cases consolidation, of hereditary republics in the Arab world has evoked powerful nostalgia for Nasser's days. After the long struggle of Arab peoples to turn monarchies into constitutional republics, a number of Arab autocrats have been reversing the process by turning their countries into "Gumlukiyas," a term coined by sociologist Saad Eddin Ibrahim merging the Arabic words 'gumhuriya' (republic) and 'mamlukiya' (monarchy).

The precedent was set in Syria, where Bashar Al-Assad took over power after his father's death in 2000. Iraq under Saddam Hussein was ripe for another father-to-son succession of power before the deposal of his regime at the hands of the US-led invasion in 2003.

In Yemen, the son of incumbent President Ali Abdullah Saleh, Ahmed, is widely seen as his heir apparent. Ahmed is commander of Yemen's Republican Guards and Special Forces, the military establishment's two deadliest units. He also enjoys extensive tribal backing, a very valuable asset in a country that is, essentially, considered a "tribal state."

In Libya, family succession oscillates between two of Gaddafi's sons: Seif Al-Islam, last October named by his father as the regime's second-in-command; and Mu'tasim, who controls the security apparatus. Because of Libya's weak institutions and the non-existence of political parties, opposition to Gaddafi's four-decade rule comes only from within — not within the regime, but rather within the ruling family.

In Egypt, the Arab world's most populous country, banker-turned-politician Gamal Mubarak meteorically rose in the ranks of the ruling party until he became its Deputy Secretary General. President Hosni Mubarak has bequeathed some of his powers to Gamal, who in the eyes of many observers has become a "shadow president." The deteriorating health of Mubarak Sr. and his reluctance to declare whether he will run in next year's presidential elections has fueled rumors that Gamal is being groomed for the presidency.

Witnessing the emergence of the dynastic republicanism phenomenon, Arabs lament the days of Nasser who, despite his legendary popularity in the 1950s and 1960s, has not showed any tendency to groom a son, or bestow political authority and economic influence on any family member.

Arabs have for many centuries personified power; their judgment of leaders has relied more on personal idiosyncrasies and traits than on ideological agendas and political blueprints. That’s why Nasser's many drastic failures, such as the humiliating defeat against Israel in 1967, the debacle in Yemen, and human rights breaches, are in historical hindsight condoned. Nasser was free from any aura of corruption, and utterly sincere in his desire to serve his nation, and this counts most.

To Arabs, military defeat, economic underperformance, and social mismanagement certainly count too. But corruption, nepotism and using power to selfish ends could never be forgiven; they constitute an offense, a gross insult that is not forgotten with the passage of time, or the change of political moods.

To obtain Washington's endorsement for his political ambitions, Gamal Mubarak visited the US many times and met with nearly all its top officials. It is hard to imagine the reaction of Nasser, who sharply rebuked his son for merely waving to the masses, had his son became a "shadow president" promoting himself in international capitals. But Nasser is no Mubarak, and that’s why his memory evokes so much nostalgia for the past and so much contempt for the present.

Nael M. Shama

* This article was published in Daily News (Egypt) on September 30, 2010.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Referring to Gamal Mubarak earlier this year, a senior editor at the distinguished London Review of Books wrote that "he may be the only person who is more widely disliked in Egypt than his father." After ten years in the spot light, the banker-turned-hotshot-politician could not bond with the majority of Egyptians. His competence as an astute politician, let alone his eligibility for the presidency of the Egyptian state, is still highly questioned.

At odds with this reality, a campaign called "The Popular Campaign to Support Gamal Mubarak" was recently launched to nominate Gamal Mubarak to the presidency in next year's elections. According to the coordinator of the group, 100,000 signatures have been collected so far, and more signatures are expected to flow as the campaign intensifies its efforts in many governorates. In tandem, the powerful pro-Gamal clique in the NDP and business circles has become less guarded in its espousal of Gamal's "political future" — more precisely, the presidency.

There are two types of Gamal Mubarak's followers. First, the opportunists who support him for their own personal benefits: the apparatchiks in the NDP hunting for a rise in hierarchy and prestige; the businessmen who believe that Gamal's ascendance to power will serve their business interests; and the self-seekers who climb the bandwagon of any would-be man at the helm. Second, there are those who sincerely think that Mubarak Jr. is the best choice for Egypt's future.

Though the second group is apparently made up of a small minority, their existence still raises a number of vital questions: Why do Gamal's supporters think that his election as president would serve the national interest of Egypt? What kind of arguments do they lean on to accept a rather unscrupulous father-to-son succession of power? Why do they feel affinity with, and pay allegiance to, a man who is so unpopular, so ostracized by the majority?

Do these faithful supporters believe that appearance is more important than substance? This is not a sarcastic question. Many admirers of Gamal Mubarak praise his good looks, his nicely-cut business suits, his mastering of English, and his open-minded mentality. Except for a few exceptions, most Egyptian politicians for the past few decades have been old, unappealing, speaking an outdated language, and they came from humble social backgrounds. Gamal represents a different generation, one that is better educated, more exposed to the outside world, one that speaks the language of modern times.

That these personal qualities are irrelevant to the real performance of a politician, it seems, is not so clear to them, unless these ardent believers in Gamal succumb to the conception that Gandhi liberated his nation with the help of a Gucci suit and a pair of fancy sunglasses. Or, perhaps, they overlook the fact that none fancied the presidential seat among the millions of Egyptians with the same traits; after all, none of them is the son of the president.

The support for Gamal Mubarak is usually clothed in the robes of the argument that Gamal will be a "civilian" president, unlike all Egyptian rulers since 1952. If we take this argument seriously – a no easy task for sane people - we will be tempted to believe that the entire population of Egypt is made up of men and women in uniform, and that Gamal represents Egypt's "only hope" to demilitarize the country.

Gamal, we are also told with a self-congratulatory tone, is a "young" candidate who will modernize Egypt and drive it smoothly into the thriving hub of the 21st century's world. It is as though Egypt is barren of youth and vigor. Moreover, Gamal will turn 47 next year; not so young in abstract terms, but certainly very young when compared to his 82-year-old father. So if being young is the sole yardstick used to measure leaders, then Mubarak Sr. should have long been deposed.

These glib arguments are emblematic of the infected discourse of Gamal's support base.

In addition, the fans of Gamal Mubarak do not exhibit any glimmer of awareness of the very basic facts of Egyptian politics. One need not be a genius to know that Egypt has for many decades been ruled by an authoritarian regime that has no appetite for democracy or rotation of office, and that all elections were systematically rigged to perpetuate the dominance of the ruling party. In accord with these longstanding practices, presidential elections will, quite certainly, be rigged to smooth Gamal's path to the presidency. And if Gamal becomes president, the politics of the status quo, which Gamal helped design and execute for the past ten years, will be maintained and deepened. If an Egyptian doesn’t know this, he is ignorant; if he does know this but condone it, he is corrupt.

Some important questions crop up from the talk of political corruption. What about the dominance of nepotism that enabled Gamal to rise in the ruling party, until he became its Deputy Secretary General in a few years? Could this speedy rise in power take place had he not been the president's son? To these questions, they remain silent, but silence is an answer too.

Obviously, one word seems to be missing from these fans' lexicon: legitimacy. Legitimacy will surely mean so little if Gamal becomes president through the NDP's democratic sham.

Nor do these fans pay attention to Egypt's stature in the region and the world, which will be shattered by the father-son succession of power. While Egyptians mourn as they see the age of Egypt-the-manor house take over and quash the ages of Egypt-the-culture/civilization/enlightenment/model/progress, etc, Gamal's supporters think it is time to jubilate. Is straight thinking so difficult?

However, to give them the due benefit of the doubt, the possibility that they care more about economic and social performance than democratic practice and constitutional legitimacy should be taken into account. These followers are possibly disciples of the school of the "fair dictator," which is prevalent in Egypt and the Arab world. If this is the case, then maybe these enthusiasts think that only Gamal will guarantee the continuation of his father's "golden" era in Egypt. Under Hosni Mubarak, they probably assume, Egypt witnessed an "an unprecedented process of development" that should be preserved and built upon.

But, is there still any doubt about the abysmal heritage of Hosni Mubarak? After thirty years of failure, the deterioration in public services, be it education, health, electricity, water, or transportation, needs no compelling proof; just a bit of common sense and general wisdom. Images that reflect widespread poverty, negligence, inefficiency, skewed planning and mismanagement of resources besiege Egyptians at every turn in their daily lives. And there has been no breakthrough in economy, foreign policy or democratization. So, again, one must be so effectively brainwashed by the regime's defunct propaganda to hold such out-of-touch-with-reality beliefs.

Naively, Gamal's supporters use the example of Bush Senior and Junior – father and son becoming presidents - to justify and suggest a similar scenario in Egypt. Eight years of Bill Clinton's presidency are thus swiftly erased from the historical record, along with the legal and political sea of differences separating between America's and Egypt's systems.

The unsophisticated arguments of the Gamal faction have this tragi-farce effect that leaves one bewildered, not knowing whether to laugh or to cry. Reading and listening to these arguments could be enormously useful, but only if one has an appetite for comedy — black comedy.

A poll conducted at the website of Al-Jazeera channel last month asked the following question: Do you join the Egyptian opposition's rejection of the nomination of Gamal Mubarak to the presidency? 91% voted no, showing that, contrary to prevalent stereotypes, the people of Egypt and the Arab world can, thank God, still spot the difference between good and bad apples.

Nael M. Shama

* This article was published in Daily News (Egypt) on September 17, 2010.

Friday, August 20, 2010

It was the summer of 1967, immediately following the Six Day War when an Egyptian PhD student was having coffee with a friend, also Egyptian, at a café in Kurfurstendamm, Berlin's main boulevard. The tightly packed café allowed for casual chitchats among strangers, and so the Egyptian friend was caught in a conversation with a German man sitting at a neighboring table. Noticing his heavy German accent, the German asked the Egyptian where he was from, but the Egyptian was evasive, claimed that he "does not have a country," and did his best to change the uncomfortable subject. Perplexed and anxious, the German continued pushing for a convincing answer. After some push and pull, the young Egyptian finally said that "he was from Israel!"

That was the sour effect of the catastrophic defeat. Among the ranks of the grieving, some were not only ashamed to reveal their Egyptian identity, but also felt no remorse for identifying with their chief enemy.

The PhD student who witnessed this conversation is my father. The incident left a lasting scar on his psyche. I heard the story, and more than once. To my father, any talk of the 1967 War was enough to evoke many bitter memories. To all Egyptians, "1967" was not a small loss; hopes were dashed, self-confidence was shaken, the defeat was soaked in humiliation and the future looked bleak.

The Egyptian army had hastily fled the battlefield after a decisive Israeli air strike. War on the Egyptian front lasted less than 6 days. Add to this the deceitful pre-war propaganda that so confidently vowed a swift victory. The Israeli army, Egyptians were told, consisted of nothing but a bunch of unorganized war gangs. Electrified by Nasser's mind-blowing rhetoric, the masses in Egypt believed that war would be a picnic, victory was imminent, and that fellow Palestinians were ready to crown with laurels the triumphant Egyptian army at the gates of Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. The parades of victory were envisaged before the war even began. On the 9th of June, painful disillusionment reigned.

Fast forward forty-three years to 2010. I was sitting a few weeks ago at a Lebanese café in another German city, Dusseldorf. As soon as the café's Lebanese manager noticed my unambiguous Egyptian accent, he said: "Oh, you come from the country of Mr. President Mubarak," then he fetched a sad sigh and said: "Ya 'eeb el-shom (what a shame)." Bombarded by the unforeseen comment, and because I instantly realized its validity, I paused for a second, before I set myself on a course of improvisation, but the damage had already been done.

The real source of sorrow comes from the fact that this is not an isolated incident. Very recently, the distinguished American political scientist Norman Finkelstein told me that he has noticed lately when he meets Egyptians in the US, that when he asks them about where they are from, "they say: I'm ashamed to say I am from Egypt."

But if 1967 symbolized defeat, anguish and shame, why do Egyptians in 2010 feel defeated so intensely, so deeply? Why is the lack of faith in the future so overwhelming? Why do conversations among Egyptians end with either the phrase "mafeesh fayda" (there is no hope), attributed to the pre-revolution Egyptian politician Saad Zaghloul, or with the "nothing really matters" posture, reflecting pessimism and apathy, respectively?

True, we have not been militarily defeated since 1967. But the ghosts of mental defeat are more haunting than the palpable images of material defeat. Psychologists explain that mental defeat results from the lethal mixture of failing in the present and losing faith in future recovery. "If you have no confidence in self, you are twice defeated in the race of life," journalist and activist Marcus Garvey rightly opines.

Despite their significance, economic malaise cannot alone explain this irresistible sense of defeat. Even privileged Egyptians harbor the same "defeat mentality." It is certainly possible to speak of the "civilizational defeat," the gap with the first world that widens every day, our faltering education system that produces many graduates but few brains, and our backwardness in science and technology.

In my opinion, however, more importantly behind this sense of defeat is the lack of freedom, the routine curtailment of civil liberties, the breach of human rights every morning and every night, the sub-human treatment of detainees in police stations and state prisons. In such an outrageous milieu, unsurprisingly, one political detainee described his detention center as "the capital city of hell." And, CIA agent Robert Baer remarked, "if you wanted to make someone disappear – never to return – you send him to Egypt."

The case of Khaled Said, the 28-year old Alexandrian man who was brutally beaten to death by two policemen, was a reminder that we Egyptians – anyone of us with no connections, no immunity - are not protected against such atrocities. One need only be in the wrong place at the wrong time to be humiliated, tortured and perhaps even killed. And if one is killed, like Khaled Said, the authoritarian state and its formidable security and media wings will spare no effort to assassinate his character. That is double homicide, a la today's Egypt, under today's regime.

The Lebanese man was right. What a shame.

That is a worse defeat than 1967. In this sense, tragically, the tanks of the Israelis were more merciful than the clubs and sticks of Egypt's riot police. The Israelis, after all, were the blunt and visible enemies in 1967, but the security soldiers are our fellow countrymen, they are both victims and aggressors.

I feel defeated, but I am not ashamed to say I am Egyptian. My country has a great civilization, lovely people, a rich culture, a massive reservoir of soft power, and a huge future potential. I thus have no doubt that one day the proud nation of Egypt will acquire the democracy it deserves.

I am not ashamed, but I am anxiously looking forward to the day when no fellow citizen is harassed because a police officer "doesn’t like the look on his face," when peaceful demonstrators are not beaten or sexually assaulted, when the state of emergency - uninterruptedly applied since 1981 – is finally annulled, and when perpetrators of torture do not slip away from punishment.

The eminent Egyptian novelist Alaa Al-Aswany seals each of his articles with the phrase: "democracy is the solution." How right he is.

Nael M. Shama

* This article was published in Daily News (Egypt) on August 19, 2010.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Einstein once said: "Unthinking respect for authority is the greatest enemy of truth." Among the few scholars who dared to question the authority of the biased US intellectual community's vision of Israel and the Arab-Israeli conflict is political scientist and writer Norman Finkelstein.

Norman Finkelstein was born in 1953 to Jewish parents who survived the holocaust. His mother's memories of the atrocities she had witnessed, and her routine outrage at the perpetrators of any crime against humanity, instilled in him genuine sympathy with all human sufferings - irrespective of race, color and faith - and a deep longing for justice.

Finkelstein finished his undergraduate studies at Binghamton University, and earned his Master's and PhD degrees from Princeton University. Soon after, he became a vocal critic of Israel's brutal policies, and a staunch supporter of the rights of Palestinians.

He authored a number of books on the Palestinian-Israeli conflict and the Holocaust, such as Image and Reality of the Israel-Palestine Conflict, The Rise and Fall of Palestine: A Personal Account of the Intifada Years, Beyond Chutzpah: On the Misuse of Anti-Semitism and the Abuse of History and, most recently, This Time We Went Too Far: Truth and Consequences of the Gaza Invasion. His books have been translated into more than 40 foreign editions.

The Holocaust Industry: Reflections on the Exploitation of Jewish Suffering, first published in 2000, is Finkelstein's most provoking and controversial book. Using thorough investigation, an outstanding ability to dissect the subject and connect the scattered dots, plus his brilliant sarcasm, he disdainfully denounced the holocaust industry for using the memory of a brutal genocide to serve present-day ideological and material purposes. When it came out, the book was described by The Guardian as "the most explosive book of the year." The book opened the gates of hell for Finkelstein who was ostracized by Israel and many Jewish organizations in the US.

Finkelstein initiated another heated debate in 2003 when he described the then recently published book (The Case for Israel), authored by the pro-Israel scholar and Professor of Law at Harvard University, Alan Dershowitz, as "a collection of fraud, falsification, plagiarism, and nonsense." Dershowitz denied the accusations and threatened libel action over the charges of Finkelstein. Another controversy ensued concerning the definition of plagiarism and proper methods of citation in academic studies.

Finkelstein's daring, sharp and controversial views, which in most cases contradict with the mainstream views of the American intellectual community, did not come without a price. In June 2007, he was denied tenure at De Paul University, allegedly because his "personal and reputation demeaning attacks" on a number of scholars – including Dershowitz - were inconsistent with De Paul's "Vincentian" values. The incident did cast serious doubt across the United States on the integrity of academic institutions, and their immunity to political pressure.

Finkelstein: Israel May Target Nasrallah's Deputy

Q: Let me first delve into the repercussions of the Gaza aid flotilla confrontation. Many aid ships are expected to head for Gaza in the coming months. What kind of change could this "aid offensive" lead to in light of Israel's determination to block their entrance into Gaza?I think things are becoming now a little bit confusing, and there needs to be clarity on exactly what goals people are trying to accomplish. And there needs to be, I think, a common plan. There are many individual initiatives being set up, and it is unclear whether the goal is to break the siege of Gaza, or different organizations and different states using the Gaza siege for their own separate agendas. And I don’t think that’s helpful.The goal obviously has to be to fully end the siege of Gaza, to allow for – as several human rights organizations have said – Gazans to live a normal and dignified life, to allow them to enter and leave Gaza as they want, the ability to have exports to restore the economy, and just to have a normal life to the extent it is possible. That’s the goal. But I'm not confident that goal can be reached in the form of so many different initiatives, so many different flotillas, and the fact that it is becoming unclear whether it is the interests of the people of Gaza that are served, or whether it is different states and different organizations using Gaza for their own agendas.

Q: When you say "states with different agendas," are you referring to the Turkish role?I think the Turkish initiative was very authentic, but one of the problems with success is that everybody wants to imitate it. And they want to imitate it not necessarily for the same original motives.

Q: You said that Israel is "acting like a lunatic state," certainly in light of Israel's blunders in Lebanon (2006), Gaza (2008/9), the assassination of Al-Mabhouh in Dubai (2010) and most recently the attack on the aid flotilla. How can the international community best deal with such a lunatic state?I think the main challenge is to simply enforce the law. And there are many aspects of the law which have gone unenforced. First, Amnesty International has said that there should be a comprehensive arms embargo imposed on Israel and Hamas, because they said Israel is a consistent violator of human rights, and under international law and domestic American law, it is illegal to transfer weapons to a country which is a consistent violator of human rights. So that’s one law which should be enforced.Secondly, there is the issue that remains pending, namely the resolution of the United Nations for an independent investigation of the crimes that were committed in Gaza {during the 2008/9 Israeli offense}. That law too should be enforced.And, more generally, it is now been 43 years since Israel occupied Gaza and the West Bank, and in my opinion, it is no longer a legal occupation under international law. It is no longer what is technically called a "belligerent occupation." It has become an illegal occupation, because the fundamental characteristic of a belligerent occupation is that it is supposed to be transitional until the end of war hostilities.Israel has no intention of ending this occupation. Israel is intending to annex crucial parts of the West bank, and effectively control the whole of it, so it is no longer a belligerent occupation. It is an illegal occupation. And so the law should be enforced there, and Israel should be forced to leave the occupied territories.And then there is one other outstanding issue, and that’s the issue of the nuclear weapons, and there, I think again, we should follow what the international community has said. Since 1995, the IAEA has called for the Middle East to be turned into a "weapons of mass destruction free zone," and I think that should be enforced as well.

Q: So Israel is lunatic and aggressive but it is also slowly becoming a pariah state. Could this dangerous mixture drive Israel to take another wrong move? Perhaps a strike against Iran?I don’t think the Israelis will launch a strike against Iran, but they will do something to restore what they call their "deterrence capacity." With each bungled operation, Israel becomes more and more worried that the Arab world will not fear it. And as one Israeli General commented a few weeks ago, "it is ok if the Arabs think we are crazy, but it is not ok if they think we are crazy and incompetent." And so Israel is concerned that their succession of bungled operations is conveying the impression that it is no longer a formidable fighting force. And so it will do something in order to restore its deterrence capacity. Exactly what is that I could not say, but I suspect they may do something like trying to assassinate the second person in Hezbollah, someone like Naim Kassem {Deputy Secretary General of Hezbollah}. They wouldn’t touch Nasrallah because they recognize that would unleash a chain reaction, which could have devastating consequences for them, but they would consider assassinating Kassem, or some operation like that.

Finkelstein: The Role of Egypt Has Become So Shameful.

Q: The Rafah Crossing issue has become quite controversial in Egypt lately. On one hand, the Egyptian government claims that Israel should shoulder its responsibilities towards the Gaza Strip, as long as the Strip remains occupied. But on the other hand, keeping the only gate to Gaza that is not under Israeli control closed raises questions about Egypt's participation in the inhumane siege. What are your views on this issue?I think both statements are correct. Under International law, Israel is the occupying power, and it has the responsibility for restoring normal order and peace in Gaza. On the other hand, it is true that Egypt is a collaborationist regime. The role of Egypt in support of Israel's brutal occupation of Gaza has become so shameful, so appalling. It is simply a disgrace.I have noticed lately when I meet Egyptians, as I often do in the United States, that when I ask them where they are from, they say: I'm ashamed to say I am from Egypt. This 30-year dictatorship is really quite terrible, and it's quite shameful that it required an action by Turkey to force Egypt to open up the Rafah border, because Egypt understood the message that was being transmitted, namely a non-Arab Muslim state cared more about the Palestinians than an Arab state.

Q: Does this mean that Egypt has recently moved closer to the Israeli position?Egypt did not move closer to the Israeli position, because there is no space between the Egyptian and the Israeli positions to begin with. There is no way it can move closer. There has been only one disagreement between Egypt and Israel, and that’s over the weapons of mass destruction free zone in the Middle East. Otherwise, Egypt is just a client state of the United States, and collaborators with Israel.

Q: Doesn’t this delegitimize what Egypt claims to be the "honest broker" role it has been playing between the Israelis and the Palestinians?Egypt is a client state of the United States. It does not have any independent role whatsoever. And Mubarak is probably the most revolting creature in the Arab world today. I think there is a consensus among everybody here. He is actually kind of a freak.

Q: The US President Barack Obama is increasingly seen in the Arab world as a "man of words, not actions." Since his speech at Cairo University last year, nothing has been achieved on the peace process track. Are you anticipating any change in US foreign policy towards the Palestinian/Israeli conflict in the coming months?There is no change that’s going to come from President Obama. That’s quite clear, and anybody who invested hope in it – and I was not one of them – should now be free of any illusions. There are two developments which are true: First, there has been a significant shift in American public opinion, both among Americans generally and among American Jews, regarding Israel. And I think it is correct to say that a rift has opened up between large segments of Americans – including American Jews – and Israel.Secondly, Israel's erratic actions have caused members of ruling elites in the United States to consider whether or not Israel is the strategic asset it once was for the US. And you see a certain amount of questioning that has been occurring among ruling elites about the usefulness of the alliance with Israel. And of course that is going to reflect itself in some gestures by Obama, but those are strictly reactive, that is, he is reacting to developments on the ground, but there are no initiatives coming from him.

Q: And when, in your opinion, could these developments in US society and public opinion be translated into real change in US foreign policy?It is going to take a long time. It is important for that shift in public opinion to occur, but nothing will come of that shift unless it is harnessed into a political force. And that kind of organizing hasn’t yet begun. There needs to be created a serious lobby, which will take that public opinion and turn it into a political actor in the American political system. And that has not happened yet. If public opinion changes, but people don’t act on that change in opinion, it makes no difference whether it has changed or not. All you have to do is get people to take the next step, and to act on it.

* This interview was published in Daily News (Egypt) on July 28&29, 2010.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

The return of Mohamed El-Baradei to Egypt and his readiness to challenge President Hosni Mubarak in the upcoming presidential elections was like throwing a pebble in the stagnant waters of Egyptian politics. It stirred political debate, mobilized many hitherto apolitical and raised hopes for the possibility of change towards democracy and the rule of law in the country that has been weighed down by authoritarianism and corruption for almost six decades.

Recently, however, there has been a growing feeling that the initial fervor that accompanied the beginning of El-Baradei's adventure has been dwindling. El-Baradei and his close associates have probably overlooked, or misinterpreted, a number of points.

First, the disparity of power between the Egyptian regime and its opponents is vast. After long decades in power, the Egyptian regime has become well-entrenched in Egyptian society. By controlling the security apparatus, the media, and dozens of government agencies that operate in all fields of public life, the Egyptian regime has risen to a colossal, octopus-like entity, thus perceived by many as metaphysical and unassailable. Moreover, in Egypt's centralized political system, the president enjoys draconian powers, by virtue of the constitution and a deep-rooted cultural heritage.

Opposing, the state - this gigantic, unmerciful establishment that has many carrots and sticks at its disposal - is not less challenging than swimming against an invincible current. Even the unprecedented pressure exerted by the United States – the world's only superpower and the provider of massive economic and military assistance to the Egyptian regime – bore little fruit. To deflect George W. Bush's feverish push for political reform in the years 2004 and 2005, Mubarak only introduced cosmetic changes to appease his paymasters, but he ultimately kept his strong grip on power.

In battles with stronger foes, El-Baradei must remember, weaker parties should make use of all weapons at hand.

Secondly, youth comprises the vast majority of Mohamed El-Baradei's constituency. He directly addresses them and insists on the leading role they can play in the battle for change. But in contrast to his quiet, gradual, and calculated style, the young demand a bolder and more aggressive approach. There are signs that many of his staunch supporters are beginning to find him uninspiring, hence unworthy of leadership.

Momentum is one of the weapons needed to maintain unity of any movement. Political leaders cannot be divorced from their followers. After all, what is a leader really worth without followers? And what is left of a movement that vows change if it loses its momentum? This is not an invitation for El-Baradei to substitute wisdom and reason with the impulsiveness and spontaneity of youth, but incorporating rather than alienating one's base of support is undoubtedly a must.

Counting on the unquestionable support of masses of young Egyptians would not be possible unless these peoples' concerns, thoughts, aspirations and emotions are listened to, and acted on.

Thirdly, drama is crucial to success in the game of politics. Drama is not equal to theatrical performances that capitalize on hollow rhetoric or pure demagogy. It is rather the personal embodiment of a leader's moral and political blueprint, using a creative mishmash of gesture politics, elements of surprise, and a sensible dose of excitement, in order to raise awareness and foster acquiescence.

As the modern history of the Arab world vividly demonstrates, too much personalization is catastrophic, but too little of it is suicidal. Lackluster leaders are quickly forgotten, however qualified and devoted. Even in democratic societies, the impact of leadership is enormous.

In the Arab world, moreover, the dynamics that govern the relationship between leaders and people are peculiar. The masses of unsophisticated people do not really grasp the deeper meanings of notions such as "democracy," "secularism," and "pluralism." They would yearn for freedom and dignity, and wish for an improvement in their living conditions. But they would not decode the intricacies of politics, or understand its underlying philosophical foundations. Without passion, leaders' chances of success are minimal.

That’s why King Hassan II of Morocco explained: “I am obliged to personify power as strongly as possible, for people do not obey a program or a plan. They obey men, a team of men, and it is all for the best if that team is embodied in a chief and symbolized by one face, one voice, one personality."

Perhaps out of inattentiveness to these vital realities, El-Baradei frequently stresses that Egypt "does not need a savior." This posture evokes a serious dilemma: unless El-Baradei's followers see him as a savior and a leader, they will quit following him. If the link between leader and people is cut, then the very act of leadership is likewise cut from its roots. El-Baradei would be shooting himself in the foot.

El-Baradei needs to incorporate the politics of spectacle into his program of action.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Press coverage of South Africa has been boosted to an all-time high, thanks to the country's hosting of the 19th FIFA World Cup. Documentaries and media reports broadcast round the clock on the world's major TV network do not only refer to the intense soccer competitions that will conquer the hearts and minds of football fans for one whole month, but also to the booming South African economy, its long struggle against Apartheid as well as various aspects of the country's cultural and social life.

Many Egyptians envy South Africa for this unprecedented world attention. Publicity is so important in today's globalized world. It is good for business, tourism and prestige. But, as marketing experts contend, publicity should only be sought when there are positive things to be publicized. Bad products cannot make use of advertisement, however efficient and incessant.

Those with sharper-than-fish memories remember well that six years ago Egypt bid to host the current football World Cup. To Egypt, the race was not so tight. In contrast to South Africa and Morocco, who secured 14 and 10 votes respectively, Egypt got a big goose egg. The public relations disaster, dubbed as the "Mondiale Zero" and seen as a symbol of Egypt's overall civilizational failure, still resonates in public discourses until today.

In contrast to Egypt, so much has been achieved in South Africa - politically, economically and socially - since the end of apartheid and the commencement of majority rule in 1994. Economically, the sustainability of strong growth rates, the significant increase in GDP per capita (from $2,440 in 2002 to $5,411 in 2006), as well as the remarkable drop in inflation rates (from 9% in 2002 to 4.6% in 2006), all reflect the rise of a robust and promising economy. The values of democracy and the rule of law have become deep-rooted, and a reverse of this process - fueled by the blood, sweat and tears of South Africans - seems unlikely.

Corruption, crime and AIDS are the major scourges currently haunting South Africans, and, so far, the government record on these three issues remains mixed, but positive outcomes are expected to ensue in the coming decade.

South Africa is also righteously proud of its historic leader Nelson Mandela. The anti-apartheid activist, who cheerfully spent 27 years in prison to free his people, turned into the greatest symbol of freedom and independence in the African continent.

There is sadly no grand figure like Mandela in Egypt's current history that can provide inspiration and elicit reverence. Egyptian politics renders nothing but the dismal image of an octogenarian leader who, after three decades at the helm, still clings to power and grooms his whiz kid to succeed him, and a bunch of worthless opposition parties that are content with the leftovers of the regime's poisoned banquet. This image evokes either sympathy or contempt.

There is certainly no scarcity of media stories about Egypt. But all pictures - and a picture is worth a thousand words – are detrimental and deeply upsetting. Take, for example, the grotesque picture of a young man's disfigured face that reveals human brutality and repression in their worst modes. Another surrealistic picture would be of the crowds of indignant protestors, who sought refuge on the People Assembly's threshold, overlooking the fact that the ruling party's parliamentarians are among the actors that have initially put them in these miserable conditions. What drives the prey so eagerly back to its hunter?

Equally embarrassing are the inhumane decaying conditions in slum areas, which have dropped from the moral calculus of the government, but will not drop from the interest of international news networks. All these images are very embarrassing, indeed.

Another clip of contemporary Egypt will have to shed light on ordinary people, the millions of weary Egyptians who struggle for the basic needs of life against the backdrop of harsh social and economic conditions. One day in the life of any of these people – at home, work and public transportation – speaks volumes about the country and what little has remained of its glorious past.

On another crucial level, the hospitality of Egyptians is, regrettably, in many ways becoming a relic of the past. In reality, the picture is not as rosy as the advertisements of the Ministry of Tourism try to portray. Walking in the streets of Cairo is mostly not feasible because pavements are hijacked by cafes, street vendors or parked cars. Renting a car is not a safe journey either; driving in major Egyptian cities needs skill, patience and, ironically, inattention to the basics of driving rules, and street signs are either non-existent or misleading. In addition, public transportation is in shambles and riding a taxi exposes one to the gluttony and immorality of taxi drivers. Plus, warnings against sexual harassment are today on any traveler's guide to Egypt. Due to skyrocketing pollution rates (exacerbated lately by the smog cloud), moreover, visitors to Cairo would inhale an overdose of smoke and dust, which would make them think twice before coming back to "drink again from the water of the Nile."

So, unlike South Africa, there is hardly anything so bright to brag about. Had Egypt hosted the World Cup, Egypt's apt organizers would have likely resorted to the conventional use, or abuse, of the Pharaonic legacy, indirectly admitting that to find positive aspects worth propagating, one needs to look thousands of years back for help.

Most Egyptians have already been disillusioned with the sham feelings of superiority they had been injected with since childhood. This is why they realize that there is still a lot to be done to make their country a better place. Therefore, the unrelenting buzzing of the awful vuvuzelas notwithstanding, they are grateful for South Africa's successful and impressive hosting of the World Cup.

Nael M. Shama

* This article was published in Daily News (Egypt) on Thursday July 1, 2010 (Page 7).

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Football and politics are not two mutually exclusive realms as many may think. To gain legitimacy, bolster their rule and spread their ideology, various political leaders have turned football into a political and ideological battlefield. In the heyday of Fascism, for example, Mussolini, Hitler and Franco used football to achieve multiple political ends.

Though the Italian leader Benito Mussolini was not a fan of football, the rising popularity of the game in the 1920s impelled him to pay attention to its dynamics and impact. "Opportunity," argues Professor of International Sports History Pierre Lanfranchi, is the key word that explains "why this wedding between fascism and football worked well," a wedding that ushered in the age of "football in a black skirt."

Italian fascists were attuned to the influence of popular culture. They realized that through football, they can effectively reach and influence the masses. According to Simon Martin, historian and author of Football and Fascism: The National Game under Mussolini, fascists "were very keen to attach themselves to the sport all over the country." Football was exploited domestically to create consensus by developing a sense of national Italian identity and cement Il Duce's popularity, and internationally to promote Italy's image in the world.

Adolf Hitler also used the magnificent appeal of football to serve the parochial interests of his Nazi regime. As host of the World Olympic Games in Berlin in 1936, the master of propaganda in the 1930s scored a huge propaganda success, just as Mussolini had done with Italy's organization of the 1934 World Football Cup.

After WW II, Spain's notorious Francisco Franco became aware of the appealing charm of football. In the age of television, he made sure football games are broadcast on TV, to keep people off the streets when social turmoil was anticipated. Franco adopted the Spanish Capital's major club – Real Madrid – considering it the symbolic embodiment of his fascist regime. The current rivalry between the teams of Real Madrid and Barcelona dates back to Franco's adoption of the former and his suppression of the latter.

Mubarak rejuvenated these long-forgotten fascist traditions. In a country like Egypt, where successes are rare, and corruption, despotism and inefficiency are commonplace, getting associated with football seemed to be the only way for Mubarak's authoritarian regime to fill its acute legitimacy deficit. In Egypt, football is the opium of the masses. Egyptians jokingly say that the biggest two political parties in the country are Al-Ahly and Zamalek—Egypt's top football clubs. With millions of enthusiastic supporters, the fans of these two clubs far outnumber members of all political parties who suffer from state oppression, which has ensured the dominance of the ruling national Democratic Party (NDP) over the past thirty years.

No wonder thus, after his rise to power in 1981, the Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak sought to give his people the impression of a healthy leader, who wakes up early, plays tennis, and is genuinely interested in sports. The official media has depicted him ever since as "the guardian of sports and sportsmen," and Mubarak spared no chance to confirm this image.

Last November, the fierce competition between Egypt and its archrival, Algeria, resulted in a vicious propaganda campaign between the two countries. In the heat of the crisis, Mubarak called the Egyptian Ambassador from Algiers. In foreign relations, Mubarak has been a lifetime pragmatist, who favors diplomacy and reconciliation, and shies away from conflict and confrontation. But appeasing the disgruntled football fans was an opportunity not to be missed.

Furthermore, the Egyptian state' interference in football has left its prints on Egyptian football. In the recent few years, formidable state institutions have poured massive funds into their own clubs, resulting in a fundamental shift in the structure of the Egyptian Football League. In the season 2009/2010, seven teams in the first division of the league (which comprises 16 teams) were funded and run by the ministries of Interior, Defense, Military Production and Petroleum. Consequently, the popular teams, that have historically shaped Egyptian football for the past century or so, have suffered from negligence and scarcity of resources, and many dropped to the second division. Major Egyptian cities, such as Tanta, Mansoura, Aswan, Al-Minya, and Damietta are not represented anymore in the first division.

Football also figures heavily in the current heated question of succession to the nearly three-decade rule of the octogenarian Hosni Mubarak. Like father, like son. The recent national football team's winning of the African Cup of Nations – the third in a row – was a golden photo opportunity that Gamal Mubarak, Hosni's Mubarak's son and heir apparent, could not miss. Gamal attended the final match in Angola and headed back home with the team, to salute the masses that flocked to Cairo Airport to receive the heroes.

Egypt's gigantic official propaganda machine claimed that the moral support Gamal Mubarak had given to the national football team was crucial to its bright success. The media's feverish attempts to attach the achievements of the team to the genius of Gamal Mubarak prompted an independent Egyptian journalist to ask: "Is it Egypt's national team, or the team of Gamal Mubarak?"

True, football was used by authoritarian regimes, but it could also be the antidote against the evils of authoritarianism. Many Egyptian activists contemplate using stadiums to express their support of former International Atomic Agency Chief, Mohamed El-Baradei, who, since declaring his readiness to run in the 2011 presidential elections, came to symbolize Egyptians' hope in a democratic and free Egypt.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

The Egyptian regime is a master at exposing its own weaknesses and vulnerabilities. It commemorated the 50th anniversary of the construction launch of the High Dam in Aswan by erecting an underground metal wall along Egypt's border with Gaza. By doing that, it gave commentators a golden chance to ponder the drastic changes that have engulfed Egyptian politics in 50 years.

The story of the High Dam cannot be told without mentioning the Suez Canal Company. In 1956, when the United States withdrew its offer to assist in funding the dam in a statement that combined arrogance with ignorance, Nasser responded by nationalizing the Suez Canal Company, a longtime source of foreign domination and humiliation. By using the revenues of the canal to finance the dam, he killed two birds with one stone. The idea of building the High Dam originated from a political platform that stresses objectives like the acceleration of economic and social development, the assertion of national will and emancipation from foreign control.

On the other hand, the barrier is part and parcel of other sad realities, such as Egypt's sick addiction to its dependence on the US, its shameful collaboration with Israel against fellow Arabs in Gaza and its inhumane foreign policy.

The fact that the Americans declined to fund the building of the dam in the 1950s, but provided technical expertise (and perhaps funding) to the barrier 50 years later are two manifestations of one unchanging US policy: rewarding clients and punishing states who don’t follow US dictates.

Egypt's struggle to build the dam, control the canal and defy the tripartite invasion in 1956 elevated its stature in the Third World. Egypt was rightly seen by demonstrators in Jakarta, Beirut and Caracas, among others, as one of the "leaders of the free world" who refused to bow to great powers and surrender their rights to freedom and advancement after decades of painful subjugation to foreign powers.

History came full circle. The decades of independence that came after 1956 were followed with decades of rotation within the orbit of US interests, which shattered Egypt's soft power in the Third World. Because of the decision to build the metal barrier, today's demonstrators in Jakarta, Beirut and Caracas, among others, burn Egyptian flags to condemn the Egyptian regime's ill-fated and unjust policies. Cairo is seen as suppressing the struggle of Palestinian freedom fighters and destroying their livelihoods.

Taming the River Nile was no easy job. The volume of construction material used to build the dam could be used to build 17 Great Pyramids. The mega project, considered one of the greatest engineering accomplishments of modern times, required the collaboration of thousands of engineers, technicians and workers over a period of ten years. It was a rare instance of unity between the ruler and the ruled—a "national project" that, luckily, did not merely revolve around the winning of a football game.

On the other hand, the barrier on the border with Gaza is but one part in a long cycle of discord between the current Egyptian regime and its people. The bond between ruler and ruled has been long broken, and the regime's frantic references to "Egypt's national security" and "the need to protect internal stability" are no longer convincing.

One of the gifts of the High Dam was the generation of electrical power. Thousands of Egyptian villages were, for the first time, blessed with electricity, which boosted both agriculture and industry. The dam also enabled Egypt to regulate its share of Nile water. The water stored in Lake Nasser rescued Egypt at times of drought. As such, the High dam was a source of life to Egypt's impoverished and underdeveloped countryside.

In contrast, the barrier along the Gaza border is an evil force of destruction, killing the only remaining lifeline to Gaza's besieged population. To beat a suffocating Israeli blockade, hundreds of tunnels were built to smuggle foodstuff, medicine, fuel, construction material and other basic necessities from Egyptian territory to the Gaza Strip. According to economic experts, smuggling constitutes around 90 percent of Gaza's economic activity. Without these tunnels, and with the Israeli siege and the infrequent opening of the Rafah Crossing, Gaza will starve.

In the 1950s, the Egyptian regime was very vocal about its need to build the dam. The High Dam embodied the aspirations of "the new Egypt" to progress and development. "As we build the High Dam, we build a dam of freedom and dignity," Nasser proudly said.

On the contrary, the construction of the underground barrier was shrouded with secrecy and ambiguity. To avoid embarrassment, the Egyptian regime was keen on finishing the unpleasant job in total secrecy. In fact, until this moment, the Egyptian government did not clearly specify the type of "construction work" it is undertaking along the border with Gaza. This contrast should not come as a surprise. Great achievements are announced, propagated and celebrated. Shameful deeds are disguised and buried.

The High Dam will remain an icon of development and a symbol of the fight of Egyptians with blood, toil, tears and sweat against exploitation. While the huge structure in Aswan will defy time and continue to remind Egyptians of the single project that saved their great nation from the dangers of flood and drought, the worthless barrier will sooner or later sink into oblivion, forgotten by people and apologized for by authorities.

Nael M. Shama

* This article was published in Daily News (Egypt) on February 4, 2010.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

I often wonder why any Egyptian would condone the sickening torture inflicted on suspects in police stations. Such condoning usually takes place when these suspects are charged with disgraceful crimes, such as child molestation or rape. How do these people, I often ask myself, so readily overlook the fact that a suspect remains innocent until proven guilty in a court of law, after a fair trial? And how can they possibly forget that the job of police officers is to ensure that the rights of suspects are guaranteed, and not to take it on themselves to "serve justice" so brutally?

It turned out many in Egypt revere force, and the show of crude force, much more than they respect the constitution, the law, and moral principles.

In the history of mankind, the phase of civilization refers to the emergence of a social order that allowed people to resolve their disputes and differences peacefully. In primitive societies, confined to wilderness and detached from arable land, violence was common, usually in savage ways. This brutality came under control with the advent of civilizations. The rise of institutions with clearly-stated laws, rules and procedures, and the development of moral and ethical points of reference rendered violence both prohibited and punishable.

Clearly, the adoration of force is reminiscent of the age of barbarism, defined by conflict and force. As such, it alludes to the process of "retreat from civilization."

The anarchy that dominates the Egyptian street is a vivid example of this retreat-from-civilization trend. Though traffic rules do exist, they are not even remotely applied, making Cairo's tightly-packed streets the arena of "a war of all against all." In the absence of the state and its representatives, the rule of the jungle prevails once again; survival is certainly for "the fittest," that is, the more aggressive and violent.

The same trend is reflected in the spread of the "baltaga" (thuggery) phenomenon in the last few years. Knowing that the state and its institutions are in many cases unable, or perhaps unwilling, to provide justice and maintain order, some people decide to rely on crude force to regain their rights, or settle scores with adversaries. With time and practice, this approach has become to many the first option to be considered, not the last resort.

Another basic feature of civilized men and women is the ability of self-restraint, which was conspicuously lacking during the Egypt-Algeria faceoff that followed the key match between the two countries' national teams in the 2010 World Cup qualifiers. The response of Egyptian media to the attacks on Egyptian fans in Sudan (and Egyptian interests in Algeria) was excessively emotional, amateurish, and hasty. Instead of rationally defining the problem and understanding its underlying causes, anger and frustration led many commentators to slide into diabolizing the "other," indulging in acts of chauvinistic self-praise and even inciting violence.

On the popular "Al-Qahira Al-Youm" night show, one anchor—Ahmed Moussa—retorted to the first news of the attack on Egyptians in Sudan by unleashing the barbarous mindset ordinarily hidden beneath the big smile and the fancy business suit. "Our people are being attacked and killed in Sudan. There are Algerians living here in Egypt, we can attack them too," he said. Fortunately, his co-presenter, Amr Adib, could still be reasonable amidst this unrestrained folly. He quickly interrupted Moussa and asked him to focus on how to resolve the crisis, instead of initiating a new unnecessary—and unethical, one can add— one.

The ascendancy of a barbaric culture—one that values force and disregards laws and moral values—in Egyptian society is indeed alarming. Symptoms of this mentality are apparent in the elections of professional syndicates and sports clubs. How, otherwise, could one interpret the winning of candidates who are widely known for having no credentials—no knowledge, outstanding managerial skills or expertise—but the ability to act like thugs, through using (or threatening to use) force, and intimidating rivals? Those who voted for these candidates were driven by the same mentality that, in the heat of the recent Egyptian-Algerian crisis, made many Egyptians ready to beat up any Algerian they can find in retaliation for what happened to our football fans.

During the recent Egyptian-Algerian media war, many in Egypt bragged about how "civilized we are" compared to other nations. Their point is valid. Egypt's chapter in the book of world civilizations is perhaps the longest. But a new culture has been slowly creeping beneath the fabric of Egyptian society, a culture that admires power to the point of fascination, encourages aggressive attitudes and disrespects laws, regulations and ethics.

Our ancestors must be spinning in their graves.

Nael M. Shama

* This article was published in Daily News (Egypt) on December 24, 2009.

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About Me

This blog hosts the writings of Nael M. Shama, Ph.D.
Shama is a political researcher and freelance writer based in Cairo.He obtained his PhD from the School of International Relations, University of St. Andrews, UK. His writings appeared in a number of publications, such as Daily News (Egypt), The Egyptian Gazette, The Art Review, Al-Hayat, Al-Ahram, Al-Shorouk, Weghat Nazar, Al-Arabi, Sawt Al-Umma and Al-Wafd.
He can be contacted at: nael_shama@yahoo.com